


deep down inside, i have known all along

by feliciting



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Sort Of, but what else is new, lots of pining and denial, probably an overuse of italics, soft bro scott, virtuemoir through the years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feliciting/pseuds/feliciting
Summary: He forces a laugh as he sets her down on shaky knees, but all that’s running through his head is howcompletely wrongthis whole thing has felt.tessa and scott and skating with other people.





	deep down inside, i have known all along

**Author's Note:**

> i don’t usually write fic, let alone rpf about canadian ice dancers, but that’s scott and tessa for you. i wish i could say i sat down and wrote this fic within thirty minutes, but this thing took me forever. maybe I’m just rusty, or maybe I shouldn’t spend three hours looking up various types of dance lifts, which somehow always ends with watching old vm exhibition skates. much love to my girl emma (you can find her on here at wishfulwannabe. pro tip- read all of her fics. they’re amazing and actually have developed plots, unlike this angsty mess) for looking over this and assuring me that it isn’t total crap. and thanks to my virtuemoir group chat for generally being amazing. love you, bitches! the title comes from I Won’t Let You Go by snow patrol, which someone used for a vm fanvid, so somehow it became the soundtrack for this fic. anyway, hope you enjoy, and if you want to, leave a comment!

I.

Tessa understands why Scott still has tryouts. Just because he became her official skating partner last year doesn’t mean he isn’t still one of the most sought after partners in the rink. Anyway, he makes sure to tell her when he’s asked to take a lap around the ice with Kim or Grace or Katie.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Nine- year- old Tessa is very observant, thank you very much, and she sees that the adults all think of Scott as some kind of skating prodigy. She knows that she’s going to ballet camp this summer, and if Scott wants to keep skating, he’ll need someone to partner while she’s there. 

She knows that Scott still hasn’t hit his growth spurt, and if she gets her father’s height, she’ll outgrow him by the time they’re juniors. So she knows all these tryouts are just a backup plan, and she shouldn’t get like this when they happen.

Jordan’s convinced that she’s jealous, thinks the entire thing is hilarious. But Tessa knows she isn’t. Jealousy is for evil people in the Bible and characters in romance novels and actors in those soap operas she sneakily watches when her mom isn’t home.

It’s not for preteen skating partners. At least, that’s what Tessa tells herself whenever she sees Scott step on the ice with another girl, hold someone else’s hand. The awful curling she feels behind her ribs is just a stomachache, and the dryness in her throat is just a cold coming on. 

But it’s still a relief when Scott gets off the ice and heads straight for where she’s sitting. He rolls his eyes when she asks with a shaky voice how the skate was. “It was shit, obviously,” he tells her, and if his language doesn’t make her blush furiously, what he says next certainly does.

“You know you’re the only partner for me,” Scott adds, and suddenly, the entire world slots together, like puzzle pieces clicking back into place. Tessa leans her head on his shoulder and tries to hide the smile spreading across her face.

“I don’t want to have these tryouts anymore,” he says, and she looks up at him, surprised. As one of the only male ice dancers in the rink, tryouts are part of the deal. 

“I only want to skate with you,” he continues, and the remnants of that jealousy- because, okay, that’s definitely what it was- float away and are replaced by warmth deep in her stomach.

 _Me too_ , Tessa thinks, _I only ever want to skate with you_.

She’s offered a scholarship at the National Ballet School that summer. She turns it down. 

II.

It’s kind of a shock when Fedor starts paying attention to her. Tessa’s obviously known him for years, him being Marina’s son and all, but she never thought he’d actually be interested in her. 

He’s so much older, and more mature, and handsome, and, well, Tessa feels very flattered. She knows it’s just his nature to flirt with almost everyone- he’s dated nearly all the girls at the rink. But when he winks at her while lacing his skates, or when his hand brushes her back when he skates by… she feels special, chosen. 

Tessa isn’t entirely sure it’s intentional until he grasps her hand while he’s winding down from his practice and she and Scott are just warming up for theirs. Fedor spins her, a bit awkwardly- they haven’t ever skated together, and the height difference isn’t what she’s used to- and presses a kiss to her cheek. Tessa’s pretty sure her face is bright red when he pulls back with a disarming smile and skates over to the boards. 

It takes her a minute to get her breathing even again as she watches him put guards on and saunter into the locker room. She’s still blushing when Scott skates over, arms crossed over his chest and an odd look on his face.

“What did _he_ want?” he asks, and there’s an edge to his voice that she usually doesn’t associate with Scott. Tessa shrugs and looks at her skates, face hot, mumbling something about Fedor wanting to say hello. He scoffs, actually _scoffs_ , and without another word, pulls her into a section of their short dance they’d been struggling with. 

Scott is never rough with her, never, even when he’s frustrated, even when she knows she’s being a brat. He’s always been so kind with her, pulling her through the movements, whispering encouragingly in her ear, squeezing her hand during lifts.

But there’s something different about him during this practice. He’s almost forceful. Not mean, exactly, but there’s a certain bite to his movements, in the way he’s gripping her waist tighter than usual. In his the way his breath heats her shoulder during the entry to a lift. The way he pushes her into their edges. How he almost _possessively_ wraps his hand around her thigh as he lifts her above him. 

Sure, she used to have a crush on him, a painfully obvious crush, but that was years ago. She can barely remember it now. So Tessa’s not sure why the idea that maybe he’s jealous thrills her a bit. 

It’s not like she still wishes he’d look at her the way he looks at some of the girls at the rink. Like she wishes he’d see her as something other than T, his scrawny partner. Wishes he’d think of her as something other than a kid sister.

It’s not as if a secret thrill runs through her, after practice, when she sees the faint bruises his fingers made on her thighs. When she fits her own fingers into the purpley- red indentations, such a stark contrast to her painfully pale skin. 

It’s not like she goes home every day and stares at them in her bedroom mirror after slipping her leggings off, running her hands over them when she should be doing physics homework, checking that they haven’t faded. 

And when Fedor asks her out two weeks later, she doesn’t say yes exactly loud enough that she knows Scott will hear her ten feet away. Because that would be petty, and immature, and Tessa isn’t either of those things.

III.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt worse than when Tessa told him she needed leg surgery. Worse than when he broke his arm and they had to withdraw for the rest of the season. Worse than the months following the move to Canton, and the crippling (not the right word, god, Scott) homesickness they felt.

Worse than the huge fight they had- fuck, he doesn’t even remember what it was about anymore- and didn’t speak to each other for a solid week. Worse, even, than when they lost out on Turin in 2006.

This is so, so much worse. There’s an awful sinking feeling in his gut, and he feels so on edge. He wishes now, more than anything, that it was him getting his legs cut open. If anyone had to be on the operating table- god, why wasn’t it him? 

Probably the worst, though, is he can’t call her. Can’t bring himself to pick up the goddamn phone and dial the number he’d never admit to knowing by heart. Scott knows he should call, knows he wants to, even, but can’t. He can’t remind her that he can go to the rink while she can’t even walk.

And if Tessa really wanted to hear from him, she could call herself. She probably just wants space right now. He understands, okay?

Another thing Scott can’t bring himself to do is skate with another partner. He knows half of the girls in the rink would be glad to, have been waiting for a chance to swoop in like this and- well. That’s not gonna happen.

Marina wants him to at least start practicing their programs. But to do that without Tess (to do anything without Tess) seems wrong. And it’s something he’s not gonna consider. She’ll be fine soon, he hopes. She has to be. It’s gotten to the point where Scott can’t even bring himself to think about what would happen if she doesn’t end up fine.

Because _she’s_ his partner. Not these girls that Marina keeps bringing in, urging him to partner them through a step sequence. And yeah, he gets that he’s _possibly the most naturally talented skater of his generation_ and that most of these girls have rich parents who would be _very happy to compensate him_.

But none of them are Tess. They haven’t seen him at his worst and still stuck with him, they don’t know his siblings, they don’t smell like Tessa’s perfume. It’s always been like this, though- Scott’s always hated skating with anyone but her.

He had never liked partnering girls until her. It’s not like they were great in the beginning or anything, just two kids with clammy hands skating in circles. Contrary to what the media likes to believe, they didn’t seem destined for gold at seven and nine. 

Their skating wasn’t even particularly special, admittedly pretty rough in the beginning, and half of the time he forgot the steps. But skating with Tess? It had been one of the best parts of his life, to make her laugh- a real laugh, not the carefully practiced ones she’s since developed for the cameras. 

Seeing her flushed and breathless and so incredibly proud was- _is_ \- his favorite part of competing. Sometimes he’s so caught up in just staring at her that Scott forgets to face the crowd. Marina hates it when he does that, and he tries to remember to look into the stands, but it’s easy to forget when she looks like that.

God, he hopes he’ll see her that way again. Scott isn’t stupid, or naive- he knows the surgery isn’t a guaranteed success. Far from it. But he can’t think about what would happen if it doesn’t go well. If Tess can’t skate, or hell, walk without pain again.

He won’t let himself think about a future without skating. A future without seeing Tessa every morning, grumpy and still half asleep. Without her perfume, or silly superstitions, or her insistence for Audrey Hepburn when they watch movies. A future without her oldies playlist or karaoke in the car or her loud, infectious laugh. 

Scott can’t bring himself to imagine a life without any of those things, because that would be a life almost unrecognizable from the one he’s had for _eleven fucking years_. He always jokes that she can’t remember her life without him, but what he doesn’t mention is that he never wants to have a life without her. 

He doesn’t want to even consider that it’s a possibility.

So Scott sticks to dancing around with mops and lifting bags of flour. Sticks to watching Meryl and Charlie whiz by with programs that already seem fucking flawless, dammit.

Sticks to not calling, to checking for messages during every break, to pining after his skating partner. Because hey, that’s also been part of his life for longer than he’d ever care to admit.

IV.

A few months into their relationship, Cass asks if he wants to go to the rink. “On a date,” she says, like that clears everything up. 

“I know you’re always on the ice in Canton, but we’ve never skated together, so I thought maybe…” she trails off. 

Noticing the change in her tone, Scott hastily agrees- sure, it’ll feel weird skating with anyone else, but wouldn’t it be weirder to deny Cassandra, his _girlfriend_ , this? 

He’s not really supposed to be skating recreationally- it could screw with his technique, and Marina would probably have his head if she found out, but just this once would surely be okay, right? How much harm could he really do in an hour and a half? So they go during a free skate at the Ilderton rink.

Growing up in Canada, she’s skated before, “but I’ll probably be a little rusty,” she apologizes with a giggle. It’s a bit unsettling, lacing his skates up back here, where it all began, without Tess. There’s a sick, twisty feeling in his stomach when he glances up to see the pictures from Vancouver and the Skate Canada medals proudly displayed behind the front desk. 

Scott shakes off that feeling, though, as he expertly helps Cassandra lace her rental skates. She looks cute like this, he thinks, bundled up in a thick coat and two scarves.

He had told her she really didn’t need to go full ski outfit, that once they got going it wouldn’t be that cold. But maybe he’s just used to Tessa’s thin athletic jackets and those leggings that he really has to try not to stare at her in. 

True to her word, Cass is pretty rusty, slipping a bit as she steps onto the ice. Once she rights herself, she urges him to help her around the rink, and as the dutiful boyfriend he is, Scott does. 

Her hand feels so alien in his, somehow too small and not small enough at the same time. They don’t hold hands often anyway, but out here, just the slightly yellowed ice and those six elementary schoolers and the the rowdy group of teens in the corner and them, something seems so wrong. 

She tries to fully intertwine her fingers in his, which is honestly never really comfortable, especially while skating. So he shows her the standard skating hold that’s been basically instinct since he was ten years old. But now it’s painfully obvious that the hold isn’t really serving its purpose.

When he takes the ice like this with Tess, she’s like an extension of him. Fuck, it’s cheesy, but when he holds hands with Tessa, it’s like- like they’re linking their _souls_ along with their hands, breath synced and hearts beating in perfect rhythm. 

And he really shouldn’t be thinking about Tess like this when his actual girlfriend is skating right next to him.

Cassandra must know something is up, because she shoots him a confused glance. “Sorry- just, uh, zoned out,” he says, hoping that she’ll drop it.

She doesn’t seem convinced, but thankfully doesn’t say anything further. She looks as uncomfortable as Scott feels. They silently skate the perimeter of the rink. 

He wants to speed up, blow off steam, get the skating high he’s been chasing since he was eight and powering around the rink on Danny’s hand-me-down hockey skates. He wants to skate to Canton where Tessa is and grab her hand and skate a perfect program, blades gliding and edges deep and _fucking take that, Meryl and Charlie_. But he doesn’t, doesn’t pick up the speed or drive back to Tessa like every nerve and muscle is screaming at him to. 

Scott takes his girlfriend’s hand and tries to match her inconsistent, unpracticed strokes. 

He bites the inside of his cheek when she (jokingly, but in a way that makes him feel like this is some sort of test) asks him to lift her. Holds back from saying that _no, he can’t lift her, she doesn’t have the core strength and doesn’t know the cues and it isn’t safe and really, it’s Tessa doing most of the work on the lifts._

Instead, he just scoops her into the most basic lift he can think of, a simple carry that was probably the first lift he and Tess ever learned. He forces a laugh as he sets her down on shaky knees, but all that’s running through his head is how _completely wrong_ this whole thing has felt. 

Cassandra doesn’t seem to notice how off he’s acting when they stop for lunch after. But she scrunches her brows together (in a way would he would normally think was adorable if he wasn’t so off, dammit) when he brushes off her advances for sex that night, feigning exhaustion. 

Instead, he just lies there, staring at the ceiling for what seems like hours after she falls asleep. There’s bile rising in his throat, and he’s never felt this sick in his life. 

Yeah, Scott doesn’t get much sleep that night. 

V.

Scott really does enjoy Stars on Ice. He likes performing for a crowd, likes touring with his skating friends, likes seeing the joy in Tessa’s eyes while they take their bows. He’s missed that, since they stopped competing. 

So getting to skate with her like this, going across the country without the pressure of a judging panel and without the worry of making their levels- it’s a blessing. It doesn’t feel the same as the regular competitive season, but Scott’ll take what he can get. 

There’s one thing he doesn’t like about Stars on Ice, though- those damn group numbers. Don’t get him wrong, it’s fun skating on the same ice as Chiddy and Andrew and the rest, but sometimes- well. Sometimes he gets to lift Tess like, once, and then the rest of the choreography has her on the other side of the rink. 

They always find a way to end up near each other, though- it’s just what works best for them, okay? They _like_ skating together. And if they’re the only ones holding hands while doing the steps, well, they’ve been skating that way for almost their whole lives. It must be a basic instinct at this point. 

They’re doing a number with Kaitlyn and Andrew this season, which has been fun. He thinks the basic storyline is about two couples fighting, but one couple seems to make up, and the other one doesn’t, he’s pretty sure, and, well, it’s kind of an abstract storyline they’re working with here. Sue him. 

Apparently, he and Tess are playing the role of the couple that doesn’t end up back together. He had lobbied for the opposite, but Scott’s a team player. Sure, he doesn’t like ending with his back to her, and he doesn’t like leaving the ice separately, but. If it’s for the good of the program, he’s game. 

There’s this one part, though, where they switch partners, and suddenly, he’s lifting Kaitlyn and Tessa’s being lifted by Andrew. Which is fine, it’s _fine_ , but there are some rehearsals where he just wants to go over to Andrew and show him how he’d do it. 

It’s not like Andrew isn’t capable- he definitely is, and Scott knows that, but he also knows that Tessa needs to fully trust the person who’s lifting her. He knows she needs an occasional squeeze or a word of encouragement, or- well.

Maybe he doesn’t want Andrew to be doing that, either. So Scott decides to just not looking over. 

Which works for all of three minutes, until _that_ lift comes and he almost trips because he keeps glancing over at Tessa. Kaitlyn stifles a giggle when she realizes what’s going on, and _thanks for the support, Kaitlyn_. 

It’s probably stupid to still feel so protective over her- Tessa herself has reminded him a thousand times that she can take care of herself. And she can, of course she can, as if he’d ever think she couldn’t. She’s the strongest woman he’s ever known, and Scott’s a feminist, after all. 

But he thinks that he’s spent most of his life tied to her, and he’ll always be instinctively aware of that tether linking them, tugging them back together for the rest of their lives.

And he knows that if he ever said this to his friends back home, they’d say he’s _so fucking whipped for a girl he isn’t even dating_.

They’d be right, but- they also don’t understand his and Tess’s relationship. It’s special, okay? Unique. And above all, hard to understand. Hell, Scott doesn’t even get their relationship most times. But what he does understand is that he’ll always be tied to Tessa Virtue. That even if he tried, he couldn’t change that. Why in the world would he want to?

And yeah, he knows that this is why the media thinks he’s hopelessly in love with her. But when you get down to the root of it, the truth- _yes, the real fucking exclusive, all access truth that every Canadian reporter has been after since even before Vancouver_ \- is that Scott’d be content to hold her hand for the rest of his life. 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at @feliciting.


End file.
